Disclaimers in Chapter One ** Residual Effect Chapter Two A mild winter storm slowly buried Washington DC in a blanket of crystallized water. Dana tucked her gloved hands in the pockets of her coat. As she walked, she listened intently as her shoes made loud scrunching noises in the freshly fallen snow. Abbie Carmichael sat on a park bench near the edge of the reflecting pool. Dressed in an outfit that probably would cost Dana a month’s salary. A light dusting of snow beginning to cover the woman’s body, reflecting the type of stillness usually reserved for the dead. Dana approached the woman, watched as Abbie’s eyes found hers, a slight smile creasing her face. "I’m not even going to ask if you’re cold." Dana stated dryly. Abbie stood from the bench, casually extending her arm for a cursory greeting. "Nice to see you too Dana." Abbie responded. She pointed at the bench with her head. "Walk or sit?" "I think you’ve been sitting long enough," Dana placed her hand in the crook of Abbie’s elbow, pulling her towards the sidewalk, "Walk with me, talk with me." The two walked in stilted silence for a while. Dana allowing Abbie the space to get whatever it was off her chest. "We keep walking and we’re gonna be in the Potomac." "Yeah." Abbie exhaled, not really sure how to broach the subject. "I can’t help you if you won’t tell me." Abbie stopped walking, Dana turning to face the taller of the two. "Okay, hypothetically speaking, what if an agent of the court had an indiscretion that could ruin their career?" , Scully thought to herself. "Hypothetically speaking?" Dana answered, "I’d say this person needs a lawyer, not an FBI agent." "And what if I were to say that the indiscretion involved a person accused of a quadruple homicide?" "Jesus Abbie," Dana gasped, "Hypothetically speaking, I’d say that I need a drink." Dana grabbed Abbie’s arm, pulling her in the direction of the parking lot. "And so do you." *** What was thought a simple task turned into an arduous journey that Scully wasn’t sure would end. Abbie had brought a thick file containing an autopsy report, several photos and paperwork associated with her case. The attorney was merely searching for a second opinion. But what she got was.. "This is wrong." Dana stated for the umpteenth time. "Are you sure, Dana?" Abbie asked, again. Dana wasn’t used to being called by her first name. Yet, for some reason she never corrected the attorney on the lack of formalities between them. "Like I said, judging from the evidence I’d almost be willing to bet my career on it.." "Yeah, but you said almost." Abbie interjected. "Yes, without another analysis to support my claim I couldn’t possibly stand behind my argument." "Shit," Abbie stood up from the table, her hands placed on her hips. "I’m so screwed." "Now come on." Dana tried to reassure her, "The world’s not about it end. Like I said, just reorder the tests and if I’m correct." "My secondary witness went from a drug overdose to a murder. Which changes a whole helluva lot, don’t you think?" It was a rhetorical question, which Scully knew she wasn’t going to answer. The woman before her had received the official run around by a group of people whose self-interests were more important than justice. A situation, Dana mused, that struck a little too close to home. Still, there truly wasn’ t much more the agent could do for Abbie. The tests would either support Dana’s theory or they would not. Either way, Dana’s work was done. This saddened Dana in a small sort of way. In the short span of time that Dana had spent with Abbie Carmichael, she had discovered two things. One, Abbie was from Texas, which explained the accent. Two, she was an ambitious, idealistic woman with a single-mindedness that was reserved for the very brave or the very stupid. And Dana knew that Abbie Carmichael was far from stupid. It became apparent that her single-mindedness had stepped on quite a few toes. Several who also happened to be walking the very hallowed halls of the FBI. Dana also surmised that this same character trait had also impressed a few more. She could see how this woman could become a member of the Special Prosecutors Office. Dana could see in Abbie that they were very similar, aside from the obvious. With Dana, there was an air of disillusionment. The knowledge that seeking justice and attaining it were, most definitely, two separate entities unto themselves. With Abbie, there was something else. There was a darkness in Abbie. Not quite cynicism, she certainly believed in the system of justice and her duties to carry out the "arm of the law", but a level of anger, whose source Dana couldn’t quite put her finger on. For some reason, this brought out a maternal feeling with Dana. The need to protect Abbie from the ‘very bad things’ that Dana knew was out there. The men in shadows who took lives with neither restraint nor fear of justice; did inexplicable things to the innocent. Yet, walked with placid faces in the sun, knowing they were free to walk amongst us. Abbie Carmichael lifted her arms above her head, interlocking her hands, and stretched, her lanky frame working out the kinks. Dana watched through her bangs. The smooth runner’s thighs draped in dark coal slacks that led to a smooth, taut stomach. Dana’s eyes were about to reach the woman’s upper torso when Abbie turned towards her. "What exactly did you do to piss the higher ups so bad that they’d stick a person like you down here?" Dana puzzled before exhaling, a slight smile creasing her face. "It’s a long story." "Doesn’t matter," Abbie replied, "I definitely have time." Abbie walked around the smaller of the two giving a slight pat on Dana’s shoulder before grabbing her coat and sliding it on. "Let’s go get a drink." "Abbie, it’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon." She studiously pointed out. "And you’re telling me, honestly, that they’d miss you." Abbie scooped up her file, stuffing the papers in her briefcase. She turned to Dana giving a coy jerk of her head. Dana moaned defiantly, a childish pout creasing the edges of her cheeks as she took the coat handed to her. Dana Scully followed Abbie out of the Federal Building. Part of her wanting to rebel against the forces so eager to crush her. The other, glad to finally participate in some real detective work. And deep down in a part of her that she’d never admit to anyone, Dana found that accent really darn cute. *** "Irish cream for her, Glen-livet on the rocks for me." Dana stated to the waiter. The two were tucked away in a cozy little bar that was as relatively far from the Federal Building and a place she knew no self-respecting agent would be caught dead in. "Did someone forget my favorite drink?" Abbie teased. "No," Dana exhaled, "When I find someone half frozen, as a doctor, I tend to try to find the thing that will warm them up." "Yeah, I know, that used to be me." "Abbie," Dana paused, trying to read the face of the woman across from her, "Is that why you’re here?" "How’s Mulder?" she barely spat, a long contained anger bubbling to the surface in the younger woman. "Oh Jesus, is that what this is about? Abbie, that was six years ago." "Yeah, six years. I didn’t understand it then, I don’t understand it now. I don’t think an explanation is far outside the boundaries of expectations." , Dana thought. "Listen, you called me. YOU asked for my help. I’m not the one fucking a murderer." Shit. Dana knew the words were a mistake the moment they left her mouth. Abbie glared at her. In an instant, she was grabbing her coat and heading towards the door. "You’re right, the mistake was all mine." "Shit," Dana groaned to herself, she called out to the woman sliding out the booth, "Abbie." Dana met the waiter, drinks in hand, halfway between the door. She motioned to him the universal ‘one minute’ sign as she bounded out the door after Abbie. Dana knew that with Abbie’s longer legs and years as a track athlete she’d have a good start on her, even at a brisk walking pace. Dana Scully didn’t have to walk far. She found Abbie standing in the restaurant parking lot. She looked around the lot incredulously, raising her arms in defeat, letting the limbs fall slack at her sides. Dana walked up to her side. "I forgot," Abbie whispered, "We took you car." "Abbie?" Dana pulled the woman towards her. She brought her hand up to the taller woman’s face forcing the eye contact, surprised at the wetness on her fingers. Dana pulled the woman into an embrace, Abbie wrapping her arms around the smaller woman’s waist. Dana felt the sobs in her neck, the slight convulsions in Abbie’s sides, the shivering of her body. Dana pulled her in tighter, kissing an ear as she brushed the hair from her face, cooing soft words of comfort in her ear. One look from those dark eyes and Dana was opening her arms, and her heart, again. Abbie Carmichael was scared. And Dana, with all the strength that one can put into an embrace, gave her solace in the one place Abbie had always felt safe ­ Dana’s arms. End Chapter Two